GB: Facing the Past
by WayWardWonderer
Summary: After being trapped in a collapse during a bust gone wrong Peter Venkman sees the spirit of his deceased mother. Through her guidance Mrs. Venkman gives her son the strength to continue on with his life and finally let go of all his pain.
1. The Search

A ghost that had the unique and all too disastrous ability to create warp points through time and space had made its presence known in the heart of New York City. The warp points had caused many disturbances throughout the city as people would wander obliviously into a warp point at one end of the city and wind up on the complete opposite side without a clue! Cars, trucks and even subway cars would disappear and reappear without any ability to detect the warp points, save for a wavering motion of light at the entrance of the warp.

The Ghostbusters had been called to deal with the nuisance. Dr. Raymond "Ray" Stantz and Dr. Egon Spengler were able to adjust the settings on their PKE (psychokinetic energy) meters to detect the warp points, and had set out with the rest of the team in an attempt to close the warp points and finally capture the troublesome ghost before it caused further disturbances.

Egon and Winston Zeddemore had managed to isolate a majority of the warp points and use their proton packs to seal away the dangerous entrances that had manifested inside the city while Ray and Dr. Peter Venkman tracked down the ghost to a dilapidated slum of a mansion on the outskirts of the city.

"Find it Ray?" Peter asked into the radio as he gave a bored, uninterested sigh. Walking the the third floor of the mansion gave him an eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach as his grandparents had own a large house very much like the mansion. It even smelled the same. "I want to get out of here."

"Nothing yet!" Ray's voice crackled in response over the static filled radio. "I'm going to head out of the basement and meet you in the attic. If it tries to descend down the floors I'll catch it in the act."

"Yeah, sure." Peter was very disinterested in the ghost as the dreary yet familiar mansion filled his mind with dreadful childhood memories full of neglect and disappointment. Finding the large door that connected the third floor to the attic above Peter turned the knob and let out a deep breath. The door creaked open and revealed the bottom steps of a creaky, worn, dark staircase leading up into the shadows. "Lovely." He commented as he set his foot down on the first step. The wooden board creaked angrily beneath his weight. "Hey, I don't like being here anymore than you. Stop with the attitude!" Peter lamented as he began the gloomy ascent.

Ray easily made his way from the basement through the first floor and well on his way up to the second floor. As he used the PKE meter to sweep the air and track down the ghost Egon's voice interjected over the otherwise silent radio. ' _Come in Ray, Peter_.'

"Go for Ray." Ray answered without breaking stride.

' _Winston and I have just finished sealing the last of the warp points. We'll meet with you and Peter as soon as we clear the city. Are you still at the mansion_?'

"Yeah, we're checking through the building as I speak." The PKE meter suddenly chirped as it detected a faint trail coming from somewhere directly above Ray's head. "And I think I just found it. I'll keep you posted!"

Ray hastened his pace as he glided through the second floor and made his way to the third floor, the signal becoming stronger with each step forward. "Venkman, did you hear Egon?"

' _Yeah Ray, I did_.' Peter sounded a little irritated as he replied. ' _Where's the ghost you claimed to have found_?'

"Should be in the attic! Where are you?"

' _The attic. Where else_?'

"Okay, don't move! I'm making way toward your location!"

' _Where would I go, anyway_? _Out the window_?'

"Just... Just wait for me!"

Standing alone near the entryway of the attic Peter turned his attention away from the radio and toward the depths of the long deserted and dusty attic. "Okay ghost, let's play nice. You come out with your hands- or whatever you have, up, and I'll make this easy on you!"

A deeply upsetting cackle from the shadows sent a chill down Peter's spine. Unsheathing his thrower Peter aimed at the center of the attic and darted his eyes back and forth in a futile attempt to pin down the exact location of the ghost.

"Show yourself! Face me like a man!"

The cackle responded with a wicked glee from the ceiling directly above Peter's head. Looking up Peter watched as particles of dust began to rain down from the ancient wooden beams of the surprisingly high ceiling. A board groaned and a loud 'snap' echoed through the attic as the ceiling began to lose structural integrity under the presence of the ghost.

"Uh..." Peter moved his hand back to his radio to try and contact Ray. "Come in Ray, the ghost is here."

' _Almost there_!' Ray replied as he again quickened his pace. ' _Keep it distracted_!'

"Distracted?" Peter nearly spat at the odd instruction. "Sure, no problem..."

The air above Peter began to waver as the ghost began to manifest from the shadows. The ceiling beams snapped a second time and a large hole formed in the roof as the beams went falling down directly on top of Peter at an alarming speed.

"No, no, NO!" Peter protested with his wide green eyes as the heavy lumber barrelled down on him without hindrance. Lifting one arm above his head in a futile attempt to shield himself from the heavy timber Peter felt his entire body cave under the immense weight as the boards pinned him down against the window floor of the attic. A horrific crash deafened Peter's ears as he laid helpless under the crushing weight of the wooden beams.

A burning pain in the side of his neck accompanied by a warm sticky feeling told Peter that he was now bleeding. A sharp jagged edge of the broken boards had managed to graze against the side of his neck, but managed to just narrowly avoid breaking his neck in the process.

Coughing against the choking dust and chest crushing weight Peter desperately tried to call out for help. "R... Ray!" Wrestling his arm free from beneath a heavy board Peter stretched out his hand in a desperate attempt to find something, anything, to hold onto. "Help! Ray! Egon? Winston! Anybody! Help me, I'm trapped!"

A gentle feminine voice responded very near Peter's ear as a pair of warm hands wrapped his own as he reached out helplessly. "I'm here, now. Don't worry."

"Who- It can't be..." His panic filled eyes widened further as he recognized the kind voice, his heart skipping a beat as a surge of confusion and adrenaline began coursing through his veins. A lovely face leaned over him and looked down at him between the crushing boards. She smiled at him with a sincere tenderness in her green eyes that made Peter swallow a sob of emotional torment. "M-Mom?!"

 _ **...to be continued...**_


	2. The Conclusion

Peter's hand tightened into a death grip around the soft warm hands of his mother. All the fear, all of the doubt that had plagued Peter's mind since he set foot inside the rotting mansion melted away. The kindness in his mother's face was just as he remembered as a child. In fact his mother looked as she had in his memory before she had fallen ill.

"M... Mom?" Peter repeated his voice holding the faintest lilt of a long suppressed sob. The warm burning in the side of his neck now completely forgotten. "How is this possible? Why are you here?"

"Because you need me to be here." She answered sweetly as she ran a hand through the dark locks of his hair. "Peter you have to get up."

"I can't." Peter struggled to lift his shoulders up from the hardwood floor, but the heavy beams kept him pinned down firmly.

"Yes you can." His mother's hand tightened around his own as she moved her other hand from his hair to his bleeding neck. "Please try. You must get up!"

Taking a deep breath Peter steeled himself as he mustered all his strength into his arms and shoulders. Shifting his weight he managed to turned slightly onto his side and wedge his shoulder upward against the heavy wide beam that pressing painfully against his entire upper body. With a heavy grunt Peter managed to push the beam up from his shoulder and push it to his side, it collided with the hard floor with a heady 'thud'.

"Come on Peter." His mother urged with utmost confidence in her voice. "You must get up."

"I'm... I'm trying." Peter took in another deep breath as he pushed the heavy beams down his legs far enough for him to move again.

"That's it, I knew you could do it."

Sitting upright Peter kept his hand firmly grasped with his mother's. "Mom. Why... No, what are you doing here? You're... You're gone."

"Yes I am, son." She knelt down beside Peter and put her warm hand to the side of his face. She caressed his cheek with her thumb. "But as you know not every spirit leaves this world."

Peter shut his eyes and let a tear roll down his cheek. His mother wiped it away with a smile. "I've missed you."

"I missed you, too. I wish I could've stayed with you longer, but my time was over."

"Mom, why did you show yourself to me now? Why not earlier?"

"Because you didn't need me until now. You were always so strong minded and independent." She explained with a loving tone. "As much as it pained me to leave you behind I knew you'd be okay without me."

"No, I wasn't." Peter denied with the pain of a neglected child heavy in his voice. "Dad was never there for me and no one else ever helped me out. At least not until I met Egon and Ray. Winston too, he's a good guy."

"Yes, I know. I've seen you form a bond with your friends. As an only child you were always so hesitant to make friends, I'm glad you found some brothers to call family."

Peter was about to smile when a searing pain in the side of his neck caused him to flinch violently and pressed the palm of his hand against the bleeding wound.

"Be strong son." His mother put her hand over his. "You can handle this."

"Handle... it?" Peter asked between gritted teeth. "I don't understand."

"Peter, I'm here because you need me. You're dying."

"Dying?!" Peter's green eyes were wide with fear and bright against the tear reddened streaks. "But-"

"Sh..." She soothed gently. "You can still live, you just need to stay strong and fight."

"I... have a choice?"

His mother's smile twitched as she knew what Peter was truly asking her. "Son, you have to go back. You need to go back. You don't want to cross over, not yet." Her smile returned as she put both hands on his face and coaxed him to look her in the eyes. "It's not yet your time and I can't bear to see you haunted by regret."

"But I feel... I feel so tired. So weak."

"Because you're fighting. Don't stop. Your friends need you." She looked at the bleeding wound on Peter's neck. "I know you can't see them or hear them, but right now your friends are calling out to you. They want you to stay with them, they need you to stay with them."

"They need me." Peter repeated quietly.

The faint sound of a heartbeat filled the air as Peter thought of his friends. A low rhythm beeping accompanied every beat of the heart as muffled, familiar voices began speaking to him. Peter couldn't understand what was being said but he knew each word was filled with kindness and urging.

Nodding his mother slid her hand back through his hair approvingly.

"Mom, you said you don't want to see me haunted by regrets." Peter spoke timidly. "But... it's too late."

"What so you mean?"

"I... I'm a coward. I never said 'goodbye' to you when I had the chance because I was afraid of seeing you die!" Tears began to flow freely from Peter's eyes as he confessed his deepest pain. "I should've been there! I should've been there for you! I should've held your hand just like you're doing for me!"

"Peter!" She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug and held him tight. "My precious son, I know it was hard for you. I know you wanted to stay with me, but I'm glad you didn't."

"How can you say that?!"

"Because you still see me the way I wanted you to see me. Strong, healthy... I didn't want you to see me as a shell of my former self. I didn't want your last memory of me to be in a hospital bed hooked to machines."

"You're... not mad?"

"Of course not!"

Peter's arms slowly lifted as he wrapped his arms around his mother and reciprocated her hug. "Mom, when I graduated from school I knew dad wouldn't show. So I put a picture of you in my pocket so you could be there with me."

"I know son. I saw. I also saw you receive your diploma."

"You were really there?"

"I was. And I always will be." She tightened her hug. "But for now you have to go back."

"But..." Peter pressed his face down into her shoulder and closed eyes. "Okay, I'll go back. But not before I tell you something."

"What's that?"

"I love you." He lifted his head away from her shoulder and released his hug, but he kept his green eyes closed. "And... goodbye."

* * *

The beeping sound was suddenly louder as if it was right in Peter's ear. His neck was still sore but not the throbbing pain it had been. A warm soft pillow and mattress had replaced the cold hard ground of the attic floor.

Opening his eyes Peter glanced over and saw Egon, Ray and Winston sitting beside his bed with various states of worry plastered on their faces. "Hello."

"Peter!" Ray heard the hoarse voice call out. "Welcome back!"

Egon and Winston looked over at Peter and their expressions softened considerably with relief. Standing up from their chairs they gathered beside the bed.

"How long..." Peter struggled to speak but found his hushed voice. "What happened?"

Ray sat on the edge of Peter's bed as he calmly explained everything that had happened at the mansion. "You... You were caught under a bunch of broken beams. One of the pieces cut into your neck; into your jugular vein, and you... You almost bled out."

"I..." Peter's hand found its way to the side of his neck. His fingertips pressed against the thick bandages covering the life saving sutures. "How'd I get here?"

"Egon and Winston tracked down the ghost and I held pressure on your neck. Fortunately the hospital wasn't too far from the mansion."

"I'll be okay?" Peter already knew the answer but he needed to ask for the sake of his friends.

Egon nodded confidently. "It was close, but you'll make a full recovery. You were unconscious for almost two days."

Peter closed his eyes and picture his mother's face. "And you were will me the whole time."

"Of course we were." Winston answered happily as he leaned over his friend's bed. "Always."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks." Peter opened his eyes and gave his friends a grateful smirk. "Man, I had one hell of a dream..."

 _ **-The End  
**_


End file.
